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Summary
“You look so hot in that.”
Ratio turned around from where he was looking at himself in the mirror, fixing the golden leaves that circled over his iliac crest, or trying to correct the rest of his clothing for decency matters. His skin was almost entirely exposed, a white robe low on his waist, and another — blue and white — hardly covering his shoulders. Thoroughly adorned with gold, he could only shiver lightly at its cold feel against his bare skin.
How could he have contemplated that idea at all?